


Ride With A Witcher

by kindajared



Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types, ジョジョの奇妙な冒険 | JoJo no Kimyou na Bouken | JoJo's Bizarre Adventure
Genre: Inspired by The Witcher, M/M, The Witcher - Freeform, this will get more mature as it goes, we love out cowboy boyfriends
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-08
Updated: 2020-08-08
Packaged: 2021-03-05 19:34:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,180
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25790656
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kindajared/pseuds/kindajared
Summary: Johnny Joestar is a prince, bored as all hell stuck inside with his unmoving legs. It has been like this for years; unable to be fixed even by magic. His father is choosing not to give up on his son and hires a Witcher (Gyro) to take him to a sorcerer in a far away land. What will this Journey entail? Will Johnny regain what he had lost?
Relationships: Johnny Joestar/Gyro Zeppeli
Kudos: 29





	Ride With A Witcher

**Author's Note:**

> This was created for a fun; a weekly prompt thingy in a discord server I am in. This was very fun to write and I would love to make it a series...though I am so busy, I don't know when I will update. We shall see.

Johnny was so bored. He was always bored. He never really left the castle nowadays. Ever since he lost his ability to walk, he was made fun of for his handicap, for his lame legs. He was just so sick of it at this point; he was fine just sitting on his own in his room, looking out the clear, stained glass, window at the people below. Watching the hustle and bustle did, in fact, get old after a while, but what could he do?

Despite being the prince, a boy that was supposed to be protected, he wasn’t protected from any form of verbal abuse, and when he would inform his parents, they wouldn’t believe him- especially his father.

Now that he was 19 and his mother had passed, he had no one to defend him at all. Though Johnny knew that he shouldn’t need protecting. He should be able to take care of himself, right? Right. But he never seemed to be able to in the state he was in. Intimidation was not a tactic he could use.

Johnny was a confident and stubborn boy, but he couldn’t always fight back as he wanted- not when he was outnumbered as he often was. It was all very unfortunate. He thought about it a lot. Thought about being stronger; being able to walk…being able to go out again.

At this point, it had been months, and he needed to leave this, well, what seemed like a prison now. 

He sighed as he closed the window in front of him, grunting as he did so. He let out a breath before he turned himself in his wheelchair, glancing to the fire that burned weakly in the hearth at the opposite end of the room. Time to leave. 

He pushed himself towards the door, exiting the room and wandering through the halls of the castle. Guards would bow themselves as he passed by, but he never thought anything of it; never appreciated it.

“My Lord.”

They would all say. Sometimes he wanted them to shut their entitled mouths, but he wouldn’t; he had to keep up appearances at the age he was now.  
When he entered the main hall, it seemed to be rather hectic, which had Johnny extremely curious. He looked around at all the people muttering to themselves. Johnny rolled over to a few women.

“What’s going on?”

He asked. The women automatically turned and bowed.

“My prince.”  
They said simultaneously. Johnny grimaced before the straightened up and replied.

“A Witcher has been called upon. He will be arriving this evening, my prince.”

Johnny raised his brows.

“A Witcher? Really?”

Johnny wasn’t sure “Witchers’ even existed, but he supposed he was going to be proven wing later that day. The women nodded at Johnny’s questioning.

“Yes. So maybe it’s best you stay up in your room?”

They suggested. Johnny couldn’t help but scoff, shaking his head.

“You must be joking? I’m not afraid of a Witcher. Besides, I won’t be in danger, will I? He’s getting paid, so he won’t want to do anything rash.”

Was his reply. The women looked at each other, lips parted as if they were going to speak to each other, but they kept their mouths shut.  
“I-I suppose you’re right. Well, then. You’ll get to see your first Witcher then.”

The women smiled and Johnny nodded, giving them a weak smile.

“Thanks.”

He told them before leaving them behind, heading for the open doors that reached the high ceiling. The amount of stairs he had to pass by was ridiculous, but thank goodness for all the ramps his mother had made for him in the past. It wasn’t long before he was outside, breathing in the wonderful fresh air, smelling of fresh bread and newly turned soil. A smile appeared on his face as the gentle wind blew his blond hair around his face.

Soon enough, he felt a hand on his shoulder and he quickly turned.

“Brando?”  
He spoke the other’s name as he recognized him. The other boy smiled gently before raising his brows.

“You’ve heard right?”

He had an exited look on his face as he rounded Johnny so that he was in front of him. Johnny quirked a brow.

“The Witcher? Yeah, I did.”

That earned Johnny an exited laugh from the other. He stepped forward and knelt in front of Johnny, taking ahold of his hands.

“You have to tell me about it tomorrow morning. Tell me what he was like. Will you?”

He shook Johnny’s hands, face now serious. He was practically beginning. Johnny pulled his hands away.

“Alright. Alright, calm down. I’ll tell you tomorrow.”

Brando grinned before standing, bowing his head and putting his hand to his chest.

“Thank you, my prince.”

He spoke in a teasing tone. Johnny rolled his eyes.

“Fuck you, Brando.”

Johnny shook his head and the boy ran off to- who knows where, he was a mischievous person. He certainly didn’t act his age. He was older than Johnny at the age of 20. No one ever knew what he was up to or where he was, really. He was a nice guy though, a loyal friend.

Johnny spent only just a couple of hours wandering not far outside of the castle, rather uninterested in what he was laying his eyes upon. Nothing had changed. He was just enjoying the air and how fresh the nature felt and sounded. The familiar mockingbirds, and of course exotic flowers and herbs that were harvested.

When Johnny returned to the main hall. His father was sat in his chair behind the long dining table.

“Johnny, come here.”  
Johnny groaned and rolled himself towards the table, uninterested. His father cleared his throat and leaned forward, hands resting on the table.

“I’m sure you’ve heard by now-.”

“Yes. The Witcher, father.”

He interrupted. His father blinked and leaned back in his seat. Johnny sighed and let his head hang down, knowing what his father was going to say next.

“I won’t make you stay up in your room. I can tell you want to see this.”

Johnny’s head immediately lifted after hearing his father’s words, eyes wide. His mouth hung open before he spoke.

“Really? You mean it?”

His father chuckled and nodded.

“Yes, son.”

Johnny would have jumped with joy if he could, but unfortunately, he could only shimmy his shoulders in his chair.

“Thank you so much, father!”  
He was extremely grateful. His father was usually so protective and would never allow this, so this was simply a dream come true. His father spoke again, smile on his face.  
“Now go and change those rags, you look like a commoner.”  
Johnny looked down at himself. He was wearing his normal, loose fitting, white button up shirt with a tailored deep blue jacket overtop along with brown tailored pants that fit his legs snugly, lastly, his black leather shoes with a small heel. He looked back up.

“Father-.”

“Johnny- go change. Now.”

His father insisted. Johnny groaned and had to do as he was told, returning to his room to change into some ‘acceptable’ clothes.  
-

It had been 5 years since the boy’s legs had stopped being capable of movement, had any amount of feeling. At this point, it was no longer a problem for Johnny; being disabled. It was if it had been this was his whole life and though that might sound upsetting, it is what’s best. Johnny was a strong, confident boy. It seemed as though he could do anything.

That being said, when he would change clothes, it was always simple and easy. 

After reaching his chambers, he brought himself to his wardrobe and retrieved some clothing he thought his father would accept, approaching his bed and lifting himself onto it. He slid on all he could, shifting his legs with the help of his arms and hands, soon enough, dressed to what he hoped was perfection.

Before becoming a cripple, he enjoyed having people wait on him hand and foot. But after losing almost everything, he realized he had taken so much for granted and finally wanted to take care of himself; to do things himself. So, when he was offered help to be dressed time and time again for months, he would constantly refuse. He would do everything he could for himself. And he did, he did it all himself.

Soon enough he was dressed in brown leather shoes, adorned with silver buckles, with white stockings, black tailored pants that went up to his waist, a white ruffled shirt with a simple light blue coat atop it; Pattern spiral-like. He topped it all off with silver, star shaped, cufflinks.

\--

Soon enough, he had returned to the main hall. When spotted by his father, he had earned a smile. What he had chosen to wear seemed to have his approval. He rolled himself behind t the long and narrow dining table next to his father. Johnny couldn’t help but smile widely’ His father took notice.

“You seem to be happy.”

He turned to him. Johnny nodded and took a breath in through his nose.

“I won’t deny that I’m excited.”

He looked back at his father, a twinkle in his eye.  
Everyone who remained in the hall were there to observe, of course all of whom lived within the castle. When the large, now closed, double doors, shifted, everyone quieted down their conversations. The doors creaked opened loudly; they almost boomed as they did. Everyone covered their mouths as not to gasp.

Two guards had opened up the doors, standing stiffly as they held them open with their backsides. And in between approached a tall and built man, sandy blond hear, light skin, square patches of facial hair lining his jaw and haunting yellow eyes.

Nobody said a word until the presumed ‘Witcher’ was at the foot of the stairs that led to the dining table. The king spoke.

“You’re the Witcher, I presume.”

He crossed his arms and raised his brows. The man bowed his head.

“That I am.”  
His voice was gruff, with an accent Johnny didn’t recognize. It was clear Johnny was intrigues, leaning forward with his lips parted. The Witcher was standing nonchalantly before them, something most men would not do. Most men would be down on one knee, not looking up as they spoke to Johnny’s father.

“And your name?”

The king asked. The Witcher replied.

“Gyro of Blaviken,”

Blaviken?”

The King immediately question. The witcher raised a dark brow.

“Would you like proof? I don’t have the certificate of birth with me.”

The King shook his head.

“No. no. I didn’t expect a Witcher to be from Blaviken. Not in a lifetime.”

He told him, intrigued. Gyro replied.

“Learn not to expect anything, then you won’t ever be disappointed, nor surprised.”

He finally proceeded to get down on one knew, resting a forearm on the one that was upright.

“What have you called me for, Lord Joestar.”

He finally addressed Johnny’s father directly. The king cleared his throat.

“I want you to take my son to a sorcerer in Nilfgaard.”

Johnny’s brows immediately furrowed his and looked to his father.

“Father, No-!”

“Silence., Johnny!”

He stopped him and Johnny grimaced, shutting his mouth. Gyro lifted his brows. Obviously concerned about something. He pursed his lips momentarily before speaking.

“Nilfgaard? Nothing good comes from that pla-.”

“The sorcerer is there. The sorcerer who can help my sone. I will pay you whatever you’d like, Witcher.”

The King interrupted. Gyro eyed the king momentarily, but then sighed in acceptance, standing from his lowered position. The king nodded and the Witcher spoke.

“200 crowns then. That’s my deal.”

He glanced over at Johnny, making the boy stiffen momentarily.

“200? Guess I should have expected such a price.”

The king motioned for coin to be brought the Witcher. He took the small, leather, bag, weighing it in his hand.

“We leave in the morning, then.”

“And so, you will.”

The king replied. Johnny didn’t know how to feel. Mad? Sad? Scared? A stranger, no, a Witcher was going to take him to Nilfgaad of all places. This would be a long journey and well…he had chosen to be afraid. Johnny’s father looked to him.

“Go rest, son.”

Johnny looked down, swallowing…dammit…damn it all to hell! He looked to the Witcher once more, who was already looking at Johnny, looking straight away after, heading off to his chambers for the night.

\--

Johnny simply couldn’t sleep, there was just no way. He lay awake on his back as he listened to the fire crackle in the hearth. He desperately wondered what the journey would be like, what Gyro would be like…he hoped he would be safe with hi;, he prayed he would.

His father had tried this many times before; tried to cure his ailment. But he was always told he was cursed…every time. There was nothing to be done it seemed.

He hoped this time would be different.

Different with the Witcher.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed! Leave some Kudos and a Comment! <3


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